


Boundary

by GnomeIgnominious



Series: Scenes from a reconciliation [6]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen, Gratuitous references to actual cricketing current affairs, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Living Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29882637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GnomeIgnominious/pseuds/GnomeIgnominious
Summary: Millie and Douglas watch cricket and talk about their living arrangements.
Series: Scenes from a reconciliation [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197014
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Boundary

Jetlag wakes Douglas early, the early glow of dawn filtering through the gap in the curtains. He gets dressed and creeps downstairs, slipping out the house and round the corner to the newsagent’s for the Saturday paper. He hurries back through the frosty streets and makes himself coffee and some toast before sitting down with the crossword and the cricket on the telly in the background.

Millie’s down before long, unusually early for her. She heads into the kitchen and Douglas savours his last mouthful of coffee as he listens to her puttering about. He lets himself enjoy the normality of the moment and pretends that he doesn’t have to drive Millie two hundred miles north back to her mum’s this afternoon.

“Morning,” Millie stifles a yawn and comes to sit down next to him on the sofa with her cereal.

“Morning, Mills,” Douglas says. “You’re up early. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Millie shakes her head. “What’s this?”

“Day two of the second Test in India.“

“Day two? The pitch looks awful for that early in the match.”

Douglas is always secretly delighted at Millie’s love of sport, but especially cricket. She’d learned about it more by osmosis than anything, through all those hours in the car up and down the M6 when he’d have Test Match Special on the radio for three hours straight. In return, he listens to anything she wants to tell him about Preston North End, who she follows fanatically. By some minor miracle (or because God moves in mysterious ways to do lovely things for Douglas Richardson), Preston are away at Coventry in a month’s time, the weekend after Millie’s sixteenth birthday. He’s got her tickets.

“I know, and this batting partnership is looking really strong, too.”

He’s spoken too soon, because England switch bowlers for the next over and the wicket falls immediately.

“Howzat!” Millie punches the air.

Douglas heads into the kitchen for a second cup of coffee. “You want one, Mills?” He waves his mug at her. “Actually, do you even drink coffee?”

Millie pulls a face. “Verity got me to try it but I don’t really like it.”

“Tea, then?”

“No, I’m all right, Dad.”

Douglas settles back down on the sofa, one eye on the crossword and one on the cricket. Millie’s sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, looking at the telly but not really watching it anymore.

“Hurling, curling, etc.,” Douglas reads from the paper and glances at Millie expectantly. “Five letters.”

Usually she gets the right answer straight away, or comes up with a funny alternative, but today she just sighs and shrugs. Douglas reaches over and strokes a strand of hair away from her face.

“You’re very quiet this morning, sweetheart.”

Millie’s mouth twists and for a moment she gets an expression just like Verity’s when she’s about to evade a question. But Millie’s too honest for that and hasn’t learned to lie to Douglas in the same way.

“I don’t want to go back to Mum’s.”

“Oh, well, that’s all right. I can take you tomorrow instead if you want. Though aren’t you meeting up with Katie and Amelia for your study group thing tomorrow morning?”

“I didn’t mean today.” Millie picks at a loose thread on her sock and doesn’t meet Douglas’s eyes. “I meant ever.”

Ah. Douglas thinks very quickly about what he should say. Millie coming to live with him would make him the happiest he’s been in years – he can hardly suppress a smile even thinking about it – but he’s away for work so much, and besides, it would deeply hurt Emily.

“Well… I would love you to stay with me, darling, but you’ve got all your school friends up in Barrow, haven’t you? And your mum, and your brothers and sister. I think they’d really miss seeing you. Your mum especially.”

“It’s hardly fair though, is it?” Millie says seriously, and Douglas wonders if she’s talked to Verity about this because she seems to have already planned what to say. “I’ve lived with Mum for sixteen years. Don’t you want a turn? Don’t you miss seeing me?”

“Of course I do.” Douglas sips his coffee, stalling. “But I’m used to it, Millie, and your mum’s not. And it’s what she and I agreed would be best for you.”

“Well, now I’m un-agreeing.” Millie’s jaw is set and Douglas begins to realise he is not going to be able to talk her out of it. “You only agreed that because you were drinking at the time, weren’t you? So Mum thought it would be safer if I lived with her. And you don’t drink now, so that’s not a good excuse any more.”

“No, Millie, I stopped before you were born. I stopped because you were coming along. A bigger factor was – and is – my job. I’m away all the time. I couldn’t look after you by myself when you were younger.”

“That’s not a good reason any more either!” Millie says fiercely. “I’m nearly sixteen, Dad! I can manage being left by myself for a day or two. In fact, it would be even easier here because I don’t have to look after three little kids at the same time!”

The root of the problem starts to dawn on Douglas. He knows that Millie has always felt a bit like the odd one out at home, even though Gary has done his best at treating her like his own children. But he’s never contemplated the fact that she’s quite a bit older than her siblings, and how much her parents must be focused on them rather than her, and how coming to his – as she asks to do more and more frequently these days – is an escape from all that, to a home where she’s treated like an equal and important part of the household.

“You know I’m happy to have you here any time you want, Mills.” He pulls her into a sideways hug. “But you really must ask your mum, and think about she’s going to feel about it. Don’t be too upset if she says no.”

“It’s not up to her, though,” Millie says. “As soon as I’m sixteen it’s up to me. I Googled it.”

Douglas doesn’t need to Google it, intimately familiar with divorce law as he is.

“That is true, but…”

“But what, Dad? It’s not like I’d never see her. And she knows I’ll have to leave home at some point, to go to uni or get a job or whatever.”

“Yes, but she probably wasn’t expecting that point to come so soon.”

Millie shrugs again. “She’ll still have the others to look after. I really don’t think she’ll miss me that much, Dad.” She leans into his hug and mumbles into his shoulder. “I feel more at home here with you, anyway.”

“Then I’m happy for you to come, darling. Tell your mum first though, and not over the phone. I’ll take you back up today, like we planned. Okay?”

Millie nods, satisfied. “I could talk to her tonight. Maybe… maybe I could move down in the summer, once term ends? Everyone’s going to different sixth forms anyway, so it’s not like I’d still be seeing them every day.”

“Talk to Mum first,” Douglas reiterates. “Then we’ll think about school. You’ll have to book a few visits to some round here. Did you decide about your A Levels in the end?”

“Definitely French,” Millie says, more relaxed and eyes back on the telly now the difficult part of the conversation’s over. “And probably English too. But I’m still thinking about the third one.”

They watch as the bowler delivers a pacey ball and the batsman slices it up into the sky.

“Catch it!” Millie’s on the edge of the sofa as the fielder leaps for the ball.

“Shame you can’t take cricket,” Douglas comments, and Millie laughs.

Douglas thinks he could get used to this kind of Saturday morning very quickly indeed.


End file.
